Never Could Be Sweeter Than With You
by who the hell is patty simcox
Summary: Pure Brittana smut. Set sometime in between 6x03 and 6x08. One-shot.


If heaven does really exist, Brittany's sure she's there right now.

Of course, there's a lot that humans can't comprehend about...well, everything. No one's ever going to know what happens after death, without dying first. And seeing how zombies aren't really too great at communicating their thoughts, no one else is ever going to know what they know. That's the kind of stuff that's always tripped Brittany out.

However, laying on the couch with Santana curled in to her side, watching the fifth rerun of _Friends _that night, Brittany's sure she's reached nirvana.

Santana is still, her breathing slow and relaxed. The only thing that indicates that she's not asleep is the tan hand drawing shapes and patterns on Brittany's stomach, left exposed due to the fact the Brittany's only wearing a sports bra and a pair of sweatpants. Santana's in a similar state of undress, wearing only a pair of black boyshorts and Brittany's old Cheerios hoodie. (It has _Pierce _emblazoned on the back in bold white letters, and seeing it on Santana gives Brittany the best kind of butterflies.)

It was a lazy Tuesday night. They'd both had long days at work, Santana waiting tables and Brittany teaching dance. After they were both done for the night, they'd gotten pizza and went home to collapse on the couch. They hadn't moved since. Brittany felt Santana grin in to her shoulder and realized that her finger was drawing invisible hearts across her belly.

"Honey," she says quietly, lovingly.

"Hm?" Santana hums, lifting her head to look in to Brittany's gorgeous blue eyes. Brittany gives the girl a lopsided grin and reaches hand up to cup the back of Santana's neck and pull her in for a kiss. Santana giggles against her lips, and it vibrates against Brittany's. It tickles.

"I can't wait to marry you," Brittany sighs, propping herself up on her elbows. Santana bites her lip and smiles shyly.

"Only another month," she grinned, rolling on top of Brittany and straddling her hips.

"That's still too long," Brittany complains.

"I guess we'll just have to find a way to pass the time," Santana says, leaning down to kiss Brittany again. It's sweet and chaste, and makes Brittany's heart feel like it's ready to burst with how much she loves Santana.

"I know how," Brittany replies, lowering her voice. She grabs Santana's hips and flips them over so that Santana's laying under her.

"Yeah?" Santana challenges, matching her tone to Brittany's. She feels her stomach flutter with excitement. She loves it when Brittany takes charge.

"Mhm," Brittany hums, brushing her lips along Santana's neck. Santana tilts her head away, exposing more skin to her fiancee's soft, pink lips. Brittany feels Santana's pulse quicken under her skin, and giggles quietly. She leaves a trail of soft kisses across Santana's neck, slowly but surely increasing in passion until she's sucking and nipping at her love's collarbone. Santana lets out a small, hoarse moan, pulling Brittany tight to her body.

"More," Santana whispers out quietly, pressing one hand to the back of Brittany's neck. Brittany takes the cue to suck at Santana's neck harder, a dark red hickey blooming under her skin. Santana loves it when Brittany marks her, a fact that Brittany learned in high school at a party when Santana was really, _really _drunk. Santana had situated herself in Brittany's lap and rambled about all the dirty things she wanted Brittany to do to her, incessantly grinding her hips against Brittany. Not shoving her down and taking her on that couch that night had been an impressive display of self-control for Brittany. She had wanted to, and even though they'd been hooking up for years, their official relationship was still new. Brittany was totally sober (she'd gotten stuck with driving) and didn't want to take advantage of Santana. She chuckles at the memory, now.

"What're you laughing about?" Santana asks lazily.

"About Puck's party after regionals, senior year," Brittany responds, the words vibrating against Santana's skin. The Latina shudders at the sensation, feeling her nipples tighten further.

"Don't remember it, blacked out," she says, running her fingers through Brittany's hair.

"Wanna hear about it?" Brittany asks, a light teasing tone entering her voice.

"Later," Santana murmurs. "Right now, I want you." Brittany reconnects her lips to her neck, sucking up a couple more hickeys. Santana's breath hitches and she arches against Brittany. Even through the heavy sweatshirt, Brittany can feel Santana's nipples, stiff and aching to be touched. Leaning her weigh on one arm, she slides the other up Santana's shirt, taking the time to trace her fingers along Santana's stomach. Her hand slowly creeps up Santana's torso until it's cupping a full breast, warm and supple. Santana had recently gotten her implants removed, finally settled with the fact that she didn't need bigger boobs in order to feel wanted. Brittany and all of their friends made her feel special enough. Plus, they just really hurt sometimes. Though Brittany won't deny that she had enjoyed Santana's inflated chest, her love's comfort and self-image was the most important thing to her. On top of that, Santana's breasts were softer again, more pliant, which Brittany loved.

Brittany rubbed her thumb in circles over Santana's stiff nipple, grinning at the soft moan that Santana lets out. Santana rocks her hips upwards in to Brittany's, impatient. The blonde giggles in to her shoulder.

"Te necesito," Santana groans out. "Por favor, Britt." Brittany feels a pulling low in her stomach. She loves it when Santana speaks Spanish. Giving in, she slides her hand back down Santana's belly and in to her panties, dragging her fingers through hot folds. She's really wet, even more than Brittany expected. Santana gives a loud, pleased moan, rolling her hips with the motions of Brittany's hand.

"Se siente tan bien," Santana gasps as Brittany's fingers slowly rub her clit. Brittany's long, nimble fingers slowly make their way down, two push inside of Santana. Santana bites her lip, stifling the breathy moan that rises out of her lungs.

"Te amo, te amo mucho," she continues, her breathing short and fast. Brittany curls and scissors her fingers inside Santana's tight wet heat, making her squirm and groan.

Brittany suddenly gets an idea and pulls her hand out of Santana's panties, eliciting a frustrated sigh from the girl underneath her. "Hold on," Brittany says, excited. She gets off of her and slowly peels Santana's black panties down her legs, leaving her bare. She gets back on the couch, nudging Santana's legs apart to get in between them. Santana covers her mouth to hide her grin, knowing what's about to happen. She hooks her bare legs over Brittany's shoulders, and the blonde doesn't hesitate to dive right in to the meal offered to her. Santana's hands fly to Brittany's head, grabbing handfuls of long, blonde hair. She thrusts her hips against Brittany's tongue as it works through her folds, always stopping at her clit just long enough to drive Santana crazy.

"Te quiero," Santana moans, high pitched and needy. "Llévame!" Brittany, unable to take it anymore, slides her own hand in to her sweatpants and rubs at her clit, moaning in to Santana's center. Her fingers are trembling and slightly unfocused. Her mind's just so foggy; all she can think about is how badly she wants to feel Santana cum in her mouth. Her lower stomach tightens and burns slowly, smoldering. She can't help but let out another moan, long and needy.

She looks up at Santana, her fiancee, her love, to find her just as desperate, if not more so. Her head is thrown back over the arm of the couch, inky black hair spilling over edge. She practically humps Brittany's face, her hands tightening in her hair to an almost painful level. Brittany understands that Santana's orgasm is near and she grabs Santana's hips with both of her hands, pinning them down. She latches on to Santana's clit and sucks at the sensitive bundle of nerves, hard. Santana comes apart in no time after that, screaming Brittany's name and jumbled Spanish curses.

It takes Santana longer than usual to come down, but she eventually pushes Brittany's face away from the juncture between her legs. "Tan bueno," she murmurs, her chest still heaving and her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

"Santana," Brittany husks, climbing back on top of Santana. "You're not done." Santana looks at Brittany, a mischievous smile splitting her face. She sits up under Brittany and flattens a palm out in the middle of her chest, pushing her back. Brittany lays back on the couch, Santana pressing one thigh in between her legs. Brittany grinds down against it and gives a moan that is swallowed by Santana, hungrily kissing her. Their lips move together sloppily, quick and desperate. Brittany brings her hands up to cup the back of Santana's head, pulling her closer, closer. She needs her, right now.

She rocks her hips against Santana's thigh, and god, it just feels so good. Too good. Brittany knows shes ruined her panties and is probably now soaking through her sweatpants, but can't find it in her to care at the moment.

And when Santana's palm flattens against Brittany's quivering abs, fingers lightly scratching, Brittany simply can't take anymore. Her breath catches in her throat and her brain blanks out. The smoldering feeling in her stomach explodes and shoots through her veins, filling her with euphoria.

Once she's recovered, she looks up at Santana to find her fighting to control her laughter.

"Did you just-?" Santana chuckles, a wide grin painted on her face. Brittany nods lazily, too blissed out to feel even slightly embarrassed that she just came from humping Santana's leg like a sweaty teenage boy.

"I love you," Santana laughs, slumping against Brittany and cuddling back up to her.

"Only one more month," Brittany reminds her, smiling.

"One more," Santana repeats, kissing Brittany's cheek.


End file.
